


dime a dozen

by toothpasteumbrella



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, PURPLED-CENTRIC AGAIN BABY!, intertwining bedwars into dsmp lore again, yeah i think its angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:42:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29136504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toothpasteumbrella/pseuds/toothpasteumbrella
Summary: “Am I on the good side?” Purpled’s words are muffled through his chewing, and the 14-year-old next to him motions to swallow before continuing.Gamerboy80 leans back. “There is no good side. It’s all just colors, which team you’re on doesn’t really matter.”“Can I be on the purple team?” The boy’s wide eyes stare up at 80 hopefully.“There is no purple team, kiddo.” 80 ruffles Purpled’s hair when the younger lets out a disgruntled huff. “You might be the one to make one, though. A purple team, I mean.”“I want to make my own team! It’ll be just me, because I’m Purpled! And-- and, it’d be super cool and powerful!”
Relationships: None
Comments: 6
Kudos: 133





	dime a dozen

**Author's Note:**

> PURPELDL LORE PURPELD LORE PURPLED LORE WOOAWOOWOAWOWOOWOAWOOWAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO YOU DO NOT KNOW HOW FAST I RACED TO OPEN GOOGLE DOCS  
> mmmm yes gb80 mentor figure again (rubs hands together)  
> very short once again

“I don’t get it,” Purpled mumbled, playing with the hem of his sweatshirt. He sat on cobblestone stairs, kicking his feet occasionally and skittering pebbles around.

“It’s randomized,” 80 explained, splitting a loaf of bread and handing it to the 8-year-old. “Each game you’re on a different side.”

The two sat in the Hypixel lobby, clothes stained with speckles of dried blood. Dimly lit street lights illuminated the square, sky inky with the night approaching.

“Am I on the good side?” Purpled’s words are muffled through his chewing, and the 14-year-old next to him motions to swallow before continuing.

Gamerboy80 leans back. “There is no good side. It’s all just colors, which team you’re on doesn’t really matter.”

“Can I be on the purple team?” The boy’s wide eyes stare up at 80 hopefully.

“There is no purple team, kiddo.” 80 ruffles Purpled’s hair when the younger lets out a disgruntled huff. “You might be the one to make one, though. A purple team, I mean.”

“It’ll be just me, because I’m Purpled! And-- and, it’d be super cool and powerful!”

\--

  
The sounds of war rippled around him. Amongst shouts and explosions and the whirrs of arrows being fired, the boy stood on unaffected grass. The cacophony of noise sounded distant, almost.

  
  
That calmness amongst the storm only lasted for a split second.   
  


A piercing arrow shot into his arm; cutting through his simple purple sweatshirt and making him flinch. The air felt as if it had suddenly grown heavier, and Purpled sucked in a breath.

  
Purpled held up his shield defensively-- a design he didn’t know if he supported patterned on the wood.  He skittered around, mind flaring. Which side was he even on? What was he doing on this battlefield? 

He didn’t understand the war. The fighting. Sides were just colors, right?

\--

Purpled adjusted the black leather glove on his hand, holstering his dripping diamond sword onto his hip. 

“Whose side are you on?!” cried out a voice, tugging at his purple sweatshirt as blood seeped from their stomach. Their breathes were shaky-- pitiful expression donned with soppy tears and a bloodied face.

The mercenary stared down, purple eyes slicing harsher than his blade. 

“My own.”


End file.
